


Up On Blocks

by mlyn



Series: Repair Work [2]
Category: Fast and the Furious (2001)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-05
Updated: 2004-10-05
Packaged: 2017-10-24 02:55:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/258127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mlyn/pseuds/mlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Props to Gwyn for more info about Mexico. More thanks to her for being a good sport and twice giving this the beta treatment.</p></blockquote>





	Up On Blocks

Dom awoke in two quick stages: the first when he felt a pair of lips brush his slack mouth, and the second when the bed rolled as Brian left it. He opened his eyes and swallowed, wishing for some water. "You getting up?"

"Gotta pee." Brian walked around the bed and into the bathroom. Dom liked the fact that he didn't feel like he had to close the door. He came back after a minute and stood beside the bed, scratching his balls idly. Dom watched his hand for a second before forcing himself not to stare. God, he had no self-control around this man.

"You going to lie in bed all day, or something?"

Dom stretched and glanced at the clock. It was after nine. "Thought about it." He repressed a smile when Brian climbed back under the sheet and propped himself up on his forearms, shoulder muscles bunching. "Why not?"

Brian rolled his eyes. "I don't want to stay inside _all_ weekend. Maybe we could get in some beach time or something. It's Spring Break, did you know that?"

For nine in the morning, he sure seemed full of energy. Dom's eyes went cool as he folded his hands beneath his head. "It's been years since I had a spring break. I don't keep track of time in terms of semesters."

 _I live my life a quarter-mile at a time._

Brian fell silent, feeling guilty. Dom hadn't gone to college, and from the vibes coming off him, it was obvious that he was touchy about having that brought up. He was about to let it drop when Dom continued, "What's eating you?"

He didn't want to tell Dom about the girls on the freeway, or about wanting to do the normal things twenty-somethings did. It sounded stupid, even in his head, and by vocalizing it he would be making it an issue. Dom would immediately feel like Brian didn't want to be in his presence, which was nowhere near the truth. "Nothing," he answered finally. "I just want to make the most of my time off."

Dom studied his face for a moment, looking for the truth. Brian relaxed under his gaze again, and after a few seconds Dom let loose a smile. "I got an idea of something we can do right now."

Brian groaned and rolled off the bed, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. He pulled on his boxers and headed to the kitchen, talking over his shoulder. "I'm making breakfast, so that you can have a last meal before the authorities come to arrest your perverted ass." Homosexual acts were probably still illegal in some parts of the world. It occurred to Brian that the more he tried to live his life according to his own terms, the more criminal his lifestyle became. At the moment he couldn't say he minded.

Dom summoned the drive to get up and take a quick shower, then shaved his scalp and face. He started to get dressed and paused with a pair of boxer briefs in hand. Thinking of giving a surprise to Brian, he stuffed them back in the drawer with a grin, and left the bedroom in shorts and a fresh tank.

Brian quit poking at the scrambling eggs when Dom rubbed his chin on his shoulder. "You got any orange juice or something?"

Dom opened the fridge and pointed at the jug of distilled water. "That's all you get. I got to make a run to the store."

"Let me go with you. I go through most of what you have on my own, remember?"

"No shit. Eggs are burning." He smacked Brian on the ass as if to make a statement of his eating habits, but let him get back to work. Brian attacked the pan while the toast popped. Dom got out the remains of a stick of butter and set plates and silverware on the table, then started making coffee. It was startling to have to move around another body in the small kitchen, but he found that he enjoyed bumping into Brian more than the alternative of solitude.

He kept to his thoughts as they ate, and wondered what Brian had meant by offering to pay for the groceries. There was still plenty of money left over from the semi heists, and the cost of living was pretty low in Mexico. He wondered if Brian had some misplaced sense of duty or guilt about the costs incurred during his visits, and became annoyed at that. But he had yet to find out what Brian's motivations were for offering to come, and decided to let it drop for the moment.

They ate their breakfast and, with no better ideas for how to start the day, went to the store. Brian had a shower before they left and Dom enjoyed his presence in the car, looking spruced up and smelling faintly of cologne. It was just like Brian to bring a bottle of the stuff with him to Mexico—on the surface he seemed like a pretty boy playing off his looks, warding off the stink of Mexico's poverty with something he bought at Abercrombie & Fitch, but really he wanted to please whoever he was courting. Dom had seen the behavior when Brian had been chasing after Mia. He hadn't smelled this specific cologne, though, and felt a proprietary spark of pleasure that Brian was wearing it just for him.

Because Dom was used to shopping for himself, it seemed as though they bought enough to feed an army. Or just Brian, he mused, looking at the cart filled with goods. They had enough meat to barbecue every night for the next week, beer and juice and more water, tortillas and fixings to go in them, American breakfast cereal, eggs, lots of fresh fruit, random necessities like butter and Tabasco sauce, and of course the few selections of junk food Brian tossed into the boxes. Dom raised an eyebrow at the jumbo bag of chips and package of cookies, but said nothing.

He protested when Brian pulled out his wallet, but Brian had prepared himself for this. He'd gotten in front of Dom when they went up to pay, and moved too quickly for Dom to object very much. The serita grabbed Brian's cash and made change quickly, then bid them a good morning while Brian hauled up several bags and grinned at him.

The gesture of paying for the groceries irritated Dom, but it was hard to pinpoint why. He thought he could understand where Brian was coming from, but on the other hand Brian seemed to think that Dom needed charity just because he was working as a mechanic in a third-world country. The fact was that Dom didn't need anyone's help to take care of himself and his own. Shit, even when he'd been in Lompoc his family had been taken care of.

He found himself getting more wound up during the drive back up to the house, and tried to put the brakes on his temper. While he wasn't normally oblivious to Dom's mood, Brian's restlessness from the morning seemed to be messing up his skills of perception. Snapping Brian's head off would be a bad idea, made worse by the fact that he wouldn't see it coming.

But it was that obliviousness that did him in. They put away the groceries and Brian immediately cornered him against the sink, hooking his fingers in the belt loops on Dom's shorts and nuzzling his neck. Dom touched Brian's ribs briefly and tried to ease away. "Not right now, 'kay?"

Brian was tenacious and didn't let him pass. "Why not right now? You didn't have a better idea of anything to do. Shit, you wanted to, not even two hours ago."

"Now I don't." That came out more blunt than he intended. In his irritation he wasn't careful how hard he pushed, and Brian went off balance. He had to take a step to catch himself, confusion and hurt taking turns across his face. He turned as Dom paced across the kitchen and stood in the doorway, not wanting to leave but giving himself an out.

"You got a problem or something?"

That tone got Dom's blood up again. "Do you?" He pointed at the limp, empty grocery bags on the counter. "I don't need you to be my fucking sugar daddy." He cocked his head. "Actually, I think it's the older guy that's supposed to do that."

Brian's face quickly tightened, and a flush worked up his neck. He didn't like having the disparity in their ages pointed out. Even before they'd hooked up, he'd taken offense any time a member of Dom's team or Dom himself had razzed him about being "the kid." Dom's dig exploited that, and he regretted it the moment he said it. But it was too late, and Brian barreled on before Dom could summon the balls for an apology.

"Why don't you tell me what the fuck is going on? 'Cause I didn't come all this way for this shit."

Dom shoved his fists in his pockets. "I don't need your charity, all right? You don't always have to come into my life and fix things." He'd said it before he thought it, and the realization that Brian tended to do that sparked up his anger even higher. If he hadn't come into their lives, maybe Jesse would still be alive. Maybe Vince wouldn't be locked up. Shit...fourteen karat gold balls wouldn't be good enough for Dom to come up with an apology now.

Brian threw up his hands, voice rising. "Oh, right, that's how I do things. Even though almost a year ago you were yelling at me for coming into your life, lying to you, and all of us ending up in a shitload of trouble. Now the problem is me 'fixing' things. Let me know when you decide which way you like it."

Dom had never seen him get angry so quickly. He was cool most of the time, and even under pressure or irritation it took a lot for him to show his feelings. It seemed that Dom was his weakness. Dom understood that—Brian was his weakness—but he hated feeling weak. He pointed his finger at a spot in the middle of Brian's chest. "That's just it. You think you're doing everything right and it just gets fucked up."

"Okay."

Dom remained tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Brian's mouth twisted slightly as he worked out what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it. "I'll leave you to your own fuck-ups."

Brian's body brushed his as he walked through the doorway. Dom jerked at the contact and felt adrenaline make his head spin. _I didn't mean it. Don't go._ He followed Brian to the front door like he was escorting him out, temper making his movements broad and exaggerated. From the doorway he watched Brian cross the sad little lawn and head for the street. His chest was starting to hurt like he'd had the breath knocked out of him, but he managed enough air to call out, "Keep walking, _cop_."

An hour later he held an icepack to his knuckles and was staring guiltily at a dent in the wall when he heard some noise out front. He approached the door tentatively with Brian's name on his lips, but stopped when he saw a man leaning through the passenger's side window of his Mustang.

"HEY!"

The stranger scrambled out with a fistful of cash. Dom kicked himself for leaving a stash in the glove box of the Mustang—someone in town had noticed, and the word had gotten passed along until this poor asshole couldn't resist the temptation. He left the porch running and grabbed the stranger by the arm.

The fist swinging into his face surprised him, and knocked him onto his back. He fell on the skimpy brown grass and cracked concrete walk. The stranger fell with him and put his hand on top of Dom's head, dirt and grit digging into his tender scalp. Lifting Dom's head up like a basketball, he bounced it off the concrete. Pain roared through his head as his vision swam and went black.

Brian passed through Luis's yard and toward the bungalow, hesitating when he saw what looked like a body lying in Dom's yard. He brain kicked back into gear, and he sprinted the remaining distance yelling Dom's name.

Dom stirred as Brian reached him, putting a hand down on the ground to try to push himself up. Brian murmured, "Easy, easy," and curved a hand around Dom's upper arm, at a loss as to how to help. Dom was so big, so capable, that it seemed ridiculous for Brian to help him to his feet. He remembered the feeling from when Dom had crawled out of the Charger with the smell of a race gone wrong blowing in the air around them. Dom didn't need help, and if their argument was any indication, he hated receiving it.

Dom put a hand out and Brian grabbed it, bracing himself. He pulled Dom to his feet and steadied him with a hand on his ribs, looking into the face still bearing a grimace. "What happened?" Looking him over, he saw a goose's egg and smear of blood on the back of his head, which Dom kept reaching back to touch.

"Some kid was breaking into the car. He didn't like getting caught. Little too enthusiastic getting me out of his way."

Brian swore and started to pull Dom into the house. "You could have a concussion. We gotta get you to a hospital or something." His mouth tightened as Dom shook his head.

"I'll be okay. You just found me." He cut off Brian's protests. "I've had a concussion before, and this isn't one."

But he let Brian sit him down at the kitchen table to clean him up. Brian found the ice pack on the floor of the front room and connected it quickly to Dom's reddened knuckles. He didn't say anything as he handed it over. Dom pressed it to the back of his head with a slight hiss of discomfort.

It soon became obvious that he couldn't sit comfortably with his arm up, so he went into the bedroom to lie down. Brian followed without a word between them, and sat on the free half of the bed while Dom arranged himself. He reached out to adjust a pillow behind Dom's head, but pulled his hand back when he received a look. "I got it." Dom settled the ice and folded one arm beneath his head to hold it in place, then looked again at Brian.

"I bet you didn't have this planned for vacation, huh?"

Brian didn't crack a smile, which Dom had been hoping for. He started fidgeting, toying with the quilt, digging at the seam of his sneakers. Dom gave him a minute to answer, then started speaking himself.

"So I guess—"

"I wanted to ask—"

They stopped and looked uncomfortably at each other. Dom waved a hand and murmured, "Go ahead."

"Do you want me to stay?" Those blue eyes studied his face intently.

Dom forced his answer out with a rush of breath. "Yes."

Brian continued to watch him. "Okay." Dom blinked. Well, that was easy.

"What'd you want to say?"

Dom shook his head, making the ice rattle. "Doesn't matter now that you've said that." After a minute he reached between them and made a fist, bumping it against Brian's hand. Over the last several months, having to express things by paper and phone rather than by expression and body language, he'd learned a lot about communicating how he felt, as much as it didn't come naturally to him. "I'm an asshole."

Brian snorted. "Yeah, you are." He didn't pull away, however, while Dom looked down.

"And I-I don't know why I lost it today. I got mad over something stupid and it went off from there. I said shit I shouldn't have." Brian moved his hand and covered Dom's with it, the rough pad of his thumb stroking across Dom's knuckles. Dom watched him for a while and then tilted his head back, closing his eyes.

"Headache?"

Dom nodded. It occurred to him that Brian hadn't outright accepted his apology, such as it was, and that he might have more work to do. Just now, though, he was tired and in pain. Neither were good conditions in which to hash out problems, especially when the conditions were combined. Brian seemed to sense that and lifted his hand, shifting the bed as he sat up.

Dom couldn't force himself to look. "Don't—" He pressed his lips together and held very still. He could feel Brian looking down at him.

"I'll be back. Promise."

He did come back every few minutes to make sure that Dom hadn't slipped into a coma from the head wound, though Dom was increasingly closer to sleep each time he came. After an hour Brian gently took the melted ice pack and left him alone. He slept fitfully for another hour and a half, then dragged himself out of bed, shaky and fuzzy from napping in the middle of the day.

Brian was sitting in the front room with the TV on, but didn't seem too engrossed in the program. He looked over when Dom appeared in the doorway. "How's your head?"

"Hurts." Dom reversed direction and went into the kitchen. He was hungry and needed something get the sour taste of sleep out of his mouth. Brian got to the fridge before him and pulled out a plate containing a sandwich, orange, and a couple of the huge cookies he'd picked out at the store. Dom took a minute to process the offering, then looked up at Brian. "Thank you."

Brian shrugged, then, since Dom hadn't taken the plate, put it on the table and started to leave. Dom had to move quickly to touch his shoulder and stop him. He tensed, not looking at Dom.

"I'm sorry."

The blond head nodded in the direction of the floor. "I get it. But I think I want to sleep on the couch tonight."

Dom nodded and sat at the table, concentrating on not overreacting to that statement. Brian left the kitchen and went into the bedroom, where he'd put his duffle bag. Dom could hear him rummaging in it, and a few seconds later he passed through the house with a beach towel in hand. He called over his shoulder as he went out the front door. "Later."

Dom put the untouched sandwich back in the fridge and got some Tylenol with codeine, then went back to bed. His headache probably wouldn't get any better while he was awake, and there was nothing better to do than try and forget the shitty afternoon through sleep.

Sleep didn't come so easily this time. He tossed and turned in bed, uncomfortable in the heat of the indoors, more uncomfortable with their argument replaying in his head on loop. He'd also realized at some point that as much as he wanted Jesse alive and Vince with him, if Brian hadn't ever taken the undercover assignment, Dom wouldn't have Brian. The trade-off may have been hard to take, but Dom was having just as hard a time convincing himself that he'd rather have Brian gone and Jesse alive. Fuck. What did that mean? He couldn't figure out an answer.

He got back up again and ate the sandwich because there was nothing else to do. Brian came in later with wet hair spiked in all different directions, obviously back from the beach. He said little and fixed himself a small dinner, eating it on the couch with Dom while they watched TV.

They sat there for a few hours, making chilled small talk about the lack of programming on Mexican TV. Dom gave up early and went to bed, exchanging a polite, "Good night," with Brian. He heard the TV switch off just after he got under the covers.

Sometime later in the night he awoke from a bad dream, about an argument between himself and Brian. There'd been something about Jesse's death, too; Dom had been blaming Brian for having a small role in it, filled with grief and anger over the loss of one of his team members and taking it out on Brian. Even the dream-pain of loss and anger had an effect on him. He sat up shaking, looking around the dark room, realizing that it hadn't happened. He told himself that he hadn't done anything so stupid as to blame Jesse's death on Brian. He'd just come close.

With his eyes adjusted, he could see the front room easily, and the pale shape of Brian's upper body. He was folded up on the small couch, shirtless and wearing the same shorts he'd had on for the beach. Dom circled around and knelt by his head. "Bri." He touched a warm shoulder and shook it. Brian woke quickly, all of his limbs shifting at once before his body realized it couldn't go anywhere, and then looked at Dom.

"I want...will you come sleep in the bed?" he whispered, stricken. His face felt uncomfortable, unused to contorting into the expression of longing he wore. Brian looked surprised. He followed Dom back to the bedroom.

Dom felt as nervous as a virgin on a first date, trying not to glance over his shoulder for reassurances as he climbed back into bed. Brian stripped to the skin, to his surprise, and got in next to him. They lay on their backs for a long moment, not touching, until Dom turned onto his side, facing away. "Thanks." Brian didn't respond, but it felt like the tension between them had eased.

They slept well and woke curled together, Brian up against Dom's back, their feet tangled. Dom started to roll over and nearly flattened Brian's head with his shoulder. After a curse and some readjusting, they faced each other in the indirect morning light. Dom studied Brian's face for a long moment before trying his voice.

"Are we okay?" He sounded like he'd been chewing rocks in his sleep.

Brian nodded slowly, gaze sleepy but level with his. "Think so."

Dom caught his breath and pushed his head forward, stopping an inch from Brian's mouth. He waited for permission. Brian angled his head and gave it. Dom moaned and sank into his mouth, searching for signs of forgiveness and finding them everywhere he touched. The feeling was heady, and he found his blood quickly heating in response to the warm softness of Brian's mouth. He felt himself stir and broke off with a groan.

"I need to know what you want. To know when to stop."

Brian's face was getting fiercer by the second. He grabbed Dom's shoulder and dug his fingers in. "Let me make it real clear."

Dom tensed and waited for an angry word, then was immediately surprised when Brian pushed him onto his back and sat up, straddling his hips. He fought Dom's pants down a few inches and wrapped his fingers around his half-hard cock, handling it with little gentleness. Dom dug his head back into the pillow, groaning.

Brian leaned down and started biting him, choosing random places and leaving marks. They hurt almost too much for pleasure, but in the circumstances Dom wasn't turned off by it. He kept his head back on the pillow and felt his arousal ramp up while Brian worked out some aggression. His eyes shot open again when Brian bit his exposed throat and sucked hard. Redline.

Brian sat up and released Dom's erection, now fully hard. He smacked a hand against Dom's side, rising up himself. Dom took the cue and rolled over between the cage of Brian's legs, suddenly feeling vulnerable with his ass half-exposed. His breath hitched in his throat when Brian yanked off his pajama pants and grabbed the lube off the nightstand.

Breath tickled his ear, along with a surprisingly throaty voice. "Spread 'em, Toretto."

Well, he'd never again feel the same way about being frisked. He opened his legs and dug his knees into the mattress, lifting up. A slap on his ass sent him back down. Brian stroked the spot he'd hit, his fingers trailing over the curve and into the cleft. Dom shifted for more of the touch but it moved on, stroking up his back and across his shoulders, more sharp little bites following soon after. God, he was going to be covered in marks by the time Brian was done.

Brian's hands left his back. Dom could hear him messing with the lube. He felt a kiss between his shoulder blades, then more down the length of his back, light brushes from Brian's soft mouth. He groaned into the pillow and curled his hands into fists as those lips brushed his ass. A hand touched his hip to steady him, while another slipped between his legs and quickly found his entrance.

The brief moment of tenderness passed quickly. Brian quickly pierced him with his fingers, stretching him brutally fast. Dom gasped and tried not to hump the mattress in time with Brian's hand. Then his hand was gone, grabbing his hip, holding him still. He felt a nudge and then pressure and pain. Brian had driven into him hard with little preparation, gotten the angle wrong and hit something tender. Dom groaned, the sound obviously fueled by pain.

Brian stopped, held stock-still. The push had put his head right next to Dom's. He kissed Dom's neck slowly, though his breathing was still fast. "Sorry."

Dom didn't say anything.

Brian released his hip and leaned back enough to touch between them, rubbing Dom's stretched skin around where they were joined. It felt good enough that Dom stopped debating whether he should throw Brian off him. He relaxed a fraction and turned his face out of the pillow to breathe normally.

Brian's touch moved up to trace the curve of his ass, making him shiver, and then quickly up along his side. He lifted himself up onto his forearms and Brian reached under to stroke his chest and pinch his nipple.

"Better?"

Dom nodded and shivered again when Brian licked the curve of his ear and bit his earlobe. He felt Brian's weight shift behind him, felt him sliding out, then slamming in again. This time there was nothing but pleasure. Dom dropped his head, letting the sweet sharp rush roll over him. Brian moaned behind him. The sound was highly arousing. Another thrust and Brian clipped his prostate. Dom jerked all over and groaned, "Fuck."

"There?" Brian panted, and did it again. Dom could only nod, speechless.

Brian pulled at his hip enough to get him onto his knees, then folded himself over Dom's back. His long arms wrapped around Dom tightly for a good grip, one hand hooking over a shoulder while the other gripped Dom's cock. They set up a quick pace, and below his own panting breaths he could hear Brian muttering low, dirty things like, "Take it," and, "You like that?" Angry make-up sex with Letty was never this good.

With Brian jerking him Dom came quickly, struggling not to collapse as his entire body weakened and his vision grayed. Brian managed a few final thrusts before crumpling heavily onto Dom's back, shivering occasionally with aftershocks. Dom felt like he was floating on a thick sea, tossed occasionally by small waves that felt better than any ocean. Brian's weight was warm and heavy and welcome, spread over him in exhausted repletion. Dom lowered them to the bed.

Brian roused himself after a minute and rolled away. Dom wiped his sweaty face with the sheet and looked over. Brian was staring at the ceiling, looking dazed.

"So, we're good?"

Brian laughed. "We are GREAT, man."

Dom grinned in response to Brian's relaxed and happy expression. "'Cause I want to take you to Tijuana today, and it'd suck if there was no one to talk to in the car."

"Don't stress it, dude. But you're gonna have to shower first, 'cause I'm not sitting in a car with you smelling like _that_." He threw a pillow at Dom.

Dom caught the pillow, barely, and chucked it back before sitting up. "Be ready in twenty minutes."

**Author's Note:**

> Props to Gwyn for more info about Mexico. More thanks to her for being a good sport and twice giving this the beta treatment.


End file.
